Page 23 of A Christmas to Die For
I already know what she's about to say before she pulls back. That she's ready to walk away from this chapter. That she's craving something more stable. But maybe what we uncover here will be the redemption we've been chasing, after everything else fell apart.
"Hey, I really need to tell you something before this trip is over. Something kindof important—"
"That shower pressure was surprisingly amazing." Sabrina offers as she bursts into the room, wrapped in a towel.
I immediately shut down, the moment lost. And I wish I could take the words back before they ever had the chance to land. Maybe it's better Phoebe doesn't know about Sabrina and Aiden right now.
"Jewelry or no jewelry?" Sabrina dangles a pair of expensive-looking earrings in front of us, something far too glamorous for the divey pizza place we're about to visit.
"Don't bother," I caution. "Why'd you even bring those? Who are you trying to impress up here?"
"Forgive me if I still like to look classy, even in the boondocks."
She drops the earrings back into her bag. We all bundle upand make the short trek across town to The Hidden Slice.
The bells jingle overhead as we step through the door of The Hidden Slice, and every pair of eyes in the room shifts toward us in unison, as if we've just stumbled in from another world.
"Any table's fine!" a woman calls from the back.
Sabrina points to a table with four seats, one closer to the oversized fireplace, where fat logs crackle and pop, filling the room with warmth.
We slip off our jackets and drape them over the backs of the plastic chairs. Then Daisy, our waitress, appears with a stack of menus, her smile looking like she just got her braces removed.
"Y'all in town visiting?" she asks, no older than eighteen.
"Yes, just for another night," Mara interjects, no doubt anxious to get back home to somewhere that feels normal.
"Can I get y'all something to drink?" Daisy is the picture of sweetness. Blonde hair, petite frame, light freckles over her perfect little nose.
"I could kill for a glass of ice-cold rosé," Sabrina sighs, eyeing the sparse drink menu.
"Sorry, we only have beer and the wine selection isn't that great. We've got a house chardonnay?"
"Blech," Sabrina sticks out her tongue. "I'll just take a Diet Coke, please."
Mara and I both order sodas, and Daisy gives us a moment to look over the menu. The lighting isn't the best here, so when every single lightbulb buzzes like they're about to simultaneously lose power, I can tell the three of us are wondering whether we'll be eating by firelight.
"Should we be worried?" I joke, just as the restaurant is cast in complete darkness.
The scream that blasts through my eardrums can only belong to Sabrina.
But as soon as her shriek fades, the lights blink back on, as if nothing happened.
Sabrina looks mortified by her overreaction, but I can sense Mara's having the same sentiments. Her eyes are wide, and I can almost see her readying herself for some sudden act of violence.
I won't lie, even I half-expected that when the lights came back on, the room would be empty, except for us. Like the beginning of a true horror story where the town turns against the outsiders.
"Backup generator," a man at the back of the room shouts toward us, clearly amused by our panic.
The three of us nod like,"Oh, right, we knew that,"when in reality, none of us would even know what a breaker box does.
"Sorry 'bout that." Daisy brings over our three drinks—served in the classic pebbled red plastic cups that could probably survive a fall down a mountain without cracking—and we all accept our beverages with shaky hands.
How embarrassing. A bunch of scaredy cats who aren't used to outages.
"Does this happen often?" I ask Daisy, trying to sound casual.
"Yeah, we've got a backup generator that kicks in the second the town loses power."
